


Sign Language

by ownedbyacat



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, JYJ (Band)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Gen, M/M, Reunion!fic, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-02-25 13:03:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2622761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ownedbyacat/pseuds/ownedbyacat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yunho tries to take care of a sick Changmin. With a bit of unexpected help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hot Soup

**Author's Note:**

> This started life as a one-shot, but after some discussion and prompting I've decided to play a bit more. After all, Jaejoong isn't the only one who can read sign language.

### Hot Soup

The shopping list Yunho had handed to their staff hadn't been a long one: ginger, lemon, honey, rice, and ingredients for chicken soup. What they dropped off at the flat two hours later was enough food to last the two of them for a week, even if they had the skills and dedication to cook and eat five square meals in every twenty-four hours and Changmin miraculously recovered from his cold the very next day.

"You're quarantined," Yunho was told. "This virus spreads very easily, so you might as well get it at the same time as Changmin. That will limit the overall downtime."

Yunho wanted to point out that a cold—even a severe one—wasn't the same as contracting chicken pox or mumps, but he bit his tongue and merely bowed. After weeks of intensive dance practice and video recordings mixed with too many promotional activities—the worst possible combination in his opinion—a week's downtime suddenly sounded blissful.

He took the bag of medicines the company doctor had sent for them and listened carefully to the instructions of how and what to take when, even though the doctor had included a lengthy note. Then he locked the door, moved the jumble of shopping bags into the kitchen and went to find Changmin, who was huddled on the couch, a picture of misery.

"Come on, Min," he coaxed, pulling the younger man up, and pushing the slightly damp, tangled hair from his face. "You're officially out of commission for a week. Let's get you to bed and feed you some drugs so you can sleep."

Quite unlike his usual assertive self, Changmin let himself be moved to the bedroom, stripped and put under the covers without a word of complaint. Not that he could have said much with his voice reduced to a dry, painful rasp, but he wasn't even making an effort to argue.

When Yunho touched the back of his hand to Changmin's forehead, he had his explanation. Changmin was burning up.

And he'd always hated being too warm.

Yunho found the pills his notes said to take to reduce fever and shook two out of the bottle, then bullied Changmin into taking them with some juice. Exhausted from as simple a task as sitting up and swallowing two pills and a few sips of orange juice, Changmin nevertheless tried to speak, thank him if the accompanying look was any indication.

Yunho waved the thanks away. "Don't talk. You could damage your voice and then where'd we be?" He pulled the blankets up around Changmin, as the singer buried into the pillows. "If you've got anything to say, try sign language.

Judging by the gesture he got in reply, Changmin wasn't quite dead yet. Or the pills had started to kick in.

Smiling widely, Yunho closed the door to Changmin's bedroom and went to inspect the bags of shopping their staff had dropped off for them, relieved that matters weren't as bad as they seemed.

***

A few hours later, Yunho was close to the end of his tether. The doctor's note said to give Changmin plenty of fluids like hot lemon with ginger and honey, and hot soup.

He'd managed the mug of hot lemon and honey. The ginger was a bit of a challenge. He remembered Jaejoong making him hot lemon and ginger, but he couldn't recall stringy bits of ginger root getting caught between his teeth and he had no idea how to avoid that.

Still, Changmin had drunk two mugs without complaint, but a lot of honey, and while his voice was still pathetically raspy, he was no longer shivering as if someone had dunked him into an ice bath.

Since Changmin was looking better, and the hot lemon drink seemed to be working as the doctor's note said, Yunho decided to make soup. It couldn't be that difficult, right? Jae would make soup all the time, even when they came home too exhausted to see straight. It never took too long, either.

So why was he staring helplessly at a counter full of ingredients half an hour later with no soup in sight? It was barely evening, yet his brain felt as if he'd just come off a seven hour dance practice, unable to memorise even one more step sequence. And yet, despite the tiredness, unease gnawed at the back of his mind, as it had always done in the past when one of them had been sick.

He knew he shouldn't, knew that it was stupid to even think about it, but he picked up his phone, found the number and typed:

_How do you make hot soup?_

He was too tired right then to even sit down. So he stood in the kitchen, leaning on a counter full of partially chopped vegetables, until his phone buzzed. The relief was instantaneous. Stronger than the surprise that it had taken such a short time for Jae to reply after almost a year of silence.

For a moment he was afraid to pick up the phone and read the answer, worried that Jaejoong would just tell him where to go, but then he drew a breath and thumbed the phone to life. A stream of emoticons denoting confusion danced across his screen, followed by

_You heat it up?_

_No, idiot! Hot Soup with ginger like you made when I had the flu!_

_Oh. Who is sick?_

_Min._

_Don't kill him._

_You're so funny!_

_I so am. Your kitchen skills suck._

_Guess why I'm talking to you._

_Do you have ingredients?_

Yunho listed everything he'd dumped onto the counter earlier.

_So what is your problem?_

Jae's voice came across in his texts as clearly it had always done. Yunho could hear each inflection as if they'd never spent any time apart, as if Jaejoong was standing in the kitchen right next to him. And he could picture Jaejoong, too. Right now he'd be running his hands through his hair in confusion, his eyes so wide they seemed to take over Jae's face.

_I don't know what to do with them?_

He wouldn't have admitted that to anyone else but Jaejoong. Jae, who had seen—and guided—his first attempts at cooking anything. Jae, who understood Yunho's burning need to take care of others, who'd often gone out of his way to make Yunho comfortable. Jae, whom he missed like a limb.

_Right. Start with onions. Take the skin off—that's the outer two layers—then slice them as thinly as you can._

With detailed instructions and the occasional question back, Yunho prepared onions and beans, ginger and chilli, scallions and mushrooms, cabbage and radish. He moved slowly, his mind stuffed with cotton, sometimes having to read a text twice or even three times to understand Jae's instructions.

When the doorbell rang, he froze and stared in confusion. Now what? They didn't get visitors and the staff had told him earlier that they were on downtime. The walk to the front door seemed a mile long, and when he pulled the door open…

"I knew it." Jaejoong pushed past him into the hallway, yanking the thick grey scarf from around his neck and the matching beanie from his head. His hair was auburn right then, cut into choppy lengths that caressed his cheekbones and with red glints that made his skin glow like alabaster. "Shut the door, Yunho. And then go and SIT. DOWN. Preferably before you fall down."

That last was muttered under Jaejoong's breath as he kicked off his boots and disappeared into the kitchen.

The jumble of clothes in the hall, flung this way and that, left no doubt that what Yunho thought he'd seen was real. Jaejoong was here. In their apartment. In their kitchen, if the banging of pots and hiss of running water could be believed.

He locked the front door and stumbled back through the hallway, wanting to—no, needing to—see, hear and be close to the friend he'd thought he'd lost for good.

"How are you here?" were the first words out of his mouth when he rounded the corner and saw Jaejoong wrestling a chopping board full of vegetables.

"I came through the door?" Jae's grin was wide and his eyes were full of mischief. "Sit down, will you? Here." Jaejoong took three quick steps across the room, grabbed Yunho by the elbow and shoved him into a chair. Then he plonked a mug of hot lemon in front of him. "Drink."

Yunho still knew better than to argue when Jae got to the stage where he started to push people around. He sipped the hot lemon and found it strongly flavoured with ginger—and no stringy bits of root to catch on his teeth. Jae was wielding his magic.

"But why?" he asked, when he had drained the mug and answered enquiries about Changmin's condition, the doctor's instructions and what kind of food the staff had bought for them. The kitchen smelled like heaven by that time. Warm and inviting and… like home.

Jae smiled a little sadly at Yunho's question and stopped long enough beside Yunho's chair to run a hand through his hair. "You still don't realise you've got it too, do you? Your texts were barely coherent."

"But shouldn't you—?" Again, he had no idea what he really wanted to ask. And again, Jaejoong understood without having to be told.

"Stop worrying! I've just finished my tour, so I have a few days downtime. The least I can do is take care of you and Min until you're feeling better."

"Hyung?"

The voice was barely audible, but Jaejoong's head whipped around as if there'd been a bullhorn blaring in his ear. Seconds later he was by Changmin's side, wrapping him in a hug.

"Don't talk, you'll hurt your throat," Jaejoong ordered. Then the questions started. "Did you sleep? Are you cold? Do you want soup?"

The moment Changmin opened his mouth to answer, Jaejoong slapped a palm across his face, outrage in every line of his body. "Sign language! Don't you remember anything?"

The smile in Changmin's eyes was blinding and he hugged Jaejoong with an enthusiasm Yunho hadn't seen in weeks. An enthusiasm that wasn't even dimmed by a sudden coughing fit that had Changmin doubling over. Jaejoong's smile was just as bright, his hug just as enthusiastic. And Yunho had to laugh at the tornado of brightness that had overtaken their lives when they'd least expected it. All because he couldn't remember how to make hot soup.

They ended up on the living room sofa with bowls of sundubu jjigae and chestnut rice, snuggled under a thick quilt and eating in companionable silence. Yunho had insisted on putting Jaejoong between himself and Changmin and couldn't keep his hands off his friend.

"Why auburn?" he asked when they'd finished their comfort food, running his fingers through Jae's hair.

"You don't like it?"

"Well, its better than that wine colour they made you wear before," Changmin whispered, and Jaejoong put fingers across his lips again.

"No talking today, remember?

Changmin nodded and curled up close against Jaejoong's left side, while Yunho reached for the TV remote and did the same on Jaejoong's right.

They'd done that too many times over the years not to find comfort in the familiar. It hadn't always been Jaejoong in the middle. Whoever needed it most that day, ended up in the coveted spot. But even though they were both exhausted and battling a nasty cold, both Changmin and Yunho felt that Jae needed to be kept close.

"You're both idiots," Jaejoong whispered softly halfway through the movie none of them was properly watching. "I never changed my phone number."

Changmin flushed, aware that the nature of the complaint was just. He'd changed his number three times in the first seven months. Just because.

"You answered me right away, too."

"I didn't change my special ring tone, either," Jaejoong replied. "There's nothing I ever wanted more than another chance at this." Their hands lay joined across Jaejoong's lap and he raised them a fraction. "I was terrified that if that chance ever came, I'd miss it."

 _Now who's the idiot?_ Yunho wanted to say, but he bit his tongue. Their reunion was too new to challenge and he was too tired to fight. "And you were here the moment we needed you," he said instead.

Jaejoong huffed in annoyance and the sound was so familiar that Yunho couldn't help himself but smile. "I'll always be there when you need me. But it looks very much as if you needed me a lot sooner than that. Have you seen how skinny you two are? Do you eat at all?"

Yunho didn't remind him that he couldn't remember how to make hot soup. Neither did Changmin. They didn't talk about Jae's fluency in sign language, either. Instead, they both wrapped themselves around Jaejoong, feeling his arms tight around their waists and drawing strength from a friendship that went far deeper than politics. A friendship that might just as well be called by its real name: love.


	2. Charades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one went a little crack on me. A known side-effect of watching Yoochun smile. That dimple can cause blackouts, I'm sure. Still, after a week of constant headaches and not writing very much, I'm grateful. Even though I can't ever get Yoochun to sound the way I want him to.

Yoochun was equally skilled at reading sign language. 

Jaejoong's concert tour had ended two days earlier and while the fan cafes went mad with images, impressions and reviews, Jaejoong's Twitter account stayed as silent as his Instagram. He wasn't showing off his post-concert dinner, didn't talk about sleeping for days or how much he appreciated his fans. He didn't even post pictures of his trip home, JiJi or the shopping he was doing.

It wasn't at all what Yoochun was used to.

The fact that Jaejoong was equally silent in private—no phone calls and no texts at odd hours despite the fact that he was on downtime now—was even more suspicious.

All three had each others' schedules and a rule not to call or text while someone was on stage or in the middle of filming or recording. It was a rule they tended to stick to, since interruptions would make their already long days only more endless. So Yoochun hadn't expected to hear from Jaejoong while Jae took his last solo stage, or while Yoochun wrapped up filming his latest drama.

But now that Jae's last concert was done and that Yoochun was free to head home, his phone should have been glowing red hot with messages. That it wasn't could only mean one thing.

One thing that was immeasurably scary and immeasurably exciting all at once.

Are you where I think you are? he texted to Jaejoong's phone before he got into his car outside the film studio.

The answer came in seconds.  Yes!!!

Anything you want me to bring? 

There was no question that Yoochun would head to the address they all had memorised without a moment's delay. Even if he had to dress in Hanbok and fight his way through fans and reporters to get out of the studio parking lot.

Fruit. Juice. Lemons. Ginger. Distraction.

Like the rest of them, Yoochun had learned sign language a very long time ago. He also spoke fluently Jaejoong. And probably wore a frown fierce enough to match the one he could sense in Jae's message.

Still, in the grand scheme of things, the reason's didn't matter. Only the outcome did. So, armed with Jae's instructions, Yoochun climbed into his car and called his brother. Then he went shopping, aware of the cameras trailing him at a distance. He made sure to keep them in sight, dragging them across the large mall from store to store, each stop more unlikely than the one before, buying items he'd never need and items that left the sales girls gaping… while his brother was doing the real shopping well out of sight of anyone nosy enough to pry. He had a small gleeful giggle in his heart while he did it, but was too good an actor to let the matching smirk show anywhere on his face. He only hoped that both Jae and Junsu would forgive him for sacrificing their cats to to the greater good that would be a reunion of five if he had any say in the matter at all.

***

It was four hours later that he pulled into the underground garage of Yunho and Changmin's apartment building. By then, Yoochun was thrumming with impatience, and feeling more than a little desperate. He was also in his third change of clothes and the fourth car since he'd left the studio parking lot, having orchestrated a veritable chase across the city to facility his chance of getting away unseen. He worried a little about the wellbeing of his favourite set of wheels, currently being driven around the city by a friend of his brother's and his very appreciative girlfriend, hoping the two would manage to return the car safely to his home. 

Car worries, though, couldn't intrude for long. He was far more concerned about the wellbeing of the three friends currently hiding out in Yunho and Changmin's apartment. And keeping them safe and out of the news was only a small part of that worry.

Because even after all this time, sneaking didn't come naturally to Yoochun. Jaejoong had always been the best at slipping away unseen, hiding from cameras and minders and finding ways to do things he wasn't supposed to do without being found out. He'd tried to teach them all, but—unless one's name was Changmin—the lessons's hadn't really stuck.

But Yoochun was good a charades and being an actor had its advantages. 

At the very least, he could take the heat off the others for a while.

Right then, he was glad that he'd ended up with the black saloon with the tinted windows, despite that morning's urge to celebrate the last day of filming by taking the convertible out for a run. He'd never have made it past the line of reporters and the gaggle of fan girls camped outside the apartment building if he'd stayed in the topless car. Not with the fancafes buzzing about the seeming disappearance of the two stars who lived here, and the lack of any official comments to dispel the rumours.

He wouldn't have made it inside the underground parking lot, either, if Jaejoong hadn't texted him the code for the barriers and the code that allowed the lift all the way up to the penthouse floor.

And that just made him wonder how Jaejoong had gotten in. But it was a question he could ask later. 

Yoochun felt like a camel, loaded down with bags and bags of groceries—he'd left the bags of cat toys and expensive lingerie in the boot of his convertible—and unaccountably nervous as the doors of the lift closed around him and he pressed a finger against the button denoting the seventeenth floor.

At the same time, though, he couldn't stop grinning.

***

"Were you careful?" was the first thing out of Jaejoong's mouth when he opened the door. They'd changed his hair to auburn with red and copper highlights since Yoochun had last seen his friend and he took a second to look. He noticed more than the hair, though. Jae looked ragged, as if he hadn't slept, the bags under his eyes dark as bruises. Despite that, though, a soft glow had replaced the hint of sadness that had long been present in Jae's gaze. And alongside that softness was an edge of tightly leashed anger.

Yoochun curled an arm around Jae's shoulders and pulled him in for a hug. He wanted to ask how Yunho and Changmin were doing, wanted to ask if he'd even be welcome here—but as often before Jae ran to a different timetable. One that didn't brook interruptions or deviations.

"Were you careful?" he demanded again.

"I came in the red convertible, roof down and the stereo blaring  Catch Me ," Yoochun dimpled as he took off his shoes and coat and put them away neatly. "I also had a sign on the roof telling everyone where I was going."

"How can you have a sign on the roof if you have the roof down?"

"You wouldn't understand," Yoochun clapped him on the shoulder. "It's a car thing." He picked up the bags and held them out. "Where do you want all this? I feel like I hijacked a grocery store."

"Yoochunnie?"

Sleep roughened and raspy from the cold, but Yoochun would have recognised that voice even in a crowd. He whipped around, heart beating up a storm, and found a very pale Changmin leaning in the doorway. 

Yoochun stared at the riot of damp curls that framed his face and when had Min's cheek bones become sharp enough to bend light? More than the hollow cheeks, though, seeing Changmin's badly chapped and bitten lips caught at Yoochun's heart. His eyes grew hot at the sight and he swallowed.

"Hey, I even remembered to bring honey bombs for your lips, baby," the wide grin took all the acting skills he'd learned, but he managed it. Just.

"Did you bring pineapple juice?""

"You don't like pineapple juice."

"Hyung does," their maknae replied, and Yoochun sighed in relief when he realised that—despite their long separation—nothing had changed. When their leader was sick, Changmin worried. About ludicrous things like pineapple juice. Or Yunho waking up in a hospital bed without anyone familiar by his side. Yoochun remembered  that epic fight as if it had happened yesterday. He remembered the shocked, disbelieving faces of their managers even better. None of them had expected the baby to have teeth. And use them.

"I even brought fresh pineapples," he assured, "and mangoes," and found himself with an armful of grateful maknae. 

"Jae said you'd know what to get," Changmin mumbled into his neck as they hugged, but it's been so long and…"

"Do you think the air's too thin up there?" Yoochun asked Jaejoong. "He seems to have forgotten a lot!"

"Try First Aid. Get him to a lower elevation. See if the symptoms improve."

"You think you're so funny."

"Memory loss isn't remotely funny in someone as young as you," Yoochun chided, smiling though his eyes were stinging with tears. 

"And memory loss in someone as old as you is totally normal, so excuse me for making the assumption." 

"And here's the Shim Changmin we all know and love. Glad to know the cold hasn't impaired your bratty ways." He slung an arm around Changmin's waist and dragged the only mildly protesting man to the sofa. "I can't believe that Jae gave the game away," he complained while he wrapped the blanket back around his dongsaeng. "I was supposed to surprise you two."

"Yunho went down like a ton of bricks last night," Jaejoong said, carrying a laden tray into the room. "And Min tried to get up and go shopping for pineapple juice. I had to stop him." He handed a plate of sliced mango to Changmin and a mug of coffee to Yoochun, before reaching for his own mug of tea and settling on the far end of the couch with a little relieved sigh.

"How is Yunho?"

"Sleeping." The soft smile on Jaejoong's face was one Yoochun hadn't seen in ages and it warmed his heart having it there once more. "Fever broke about an hour ago."

"He'll be starving when he wakes up." Despite Jae's reassuring tone, Changmin was still concerned and Yoochun automatically wrapped both arms around the younger man, effectively stopping his attempts to throw off the blanket and get up once more. "There's enough food in this apartment to feed two of you and a small army," he teased gently. "And have you ever known Jae to turn down an opportunity to cook?"

"Kimchi jjigae?"

"How about ginseng chicken soup?" Jae bargained, the pout coming out when Changmin made a face. "It's liquid penicillin, that soup. It will help both of you shake your cold faster. We can have jjigae tomorrow."

"Yes, dongsaeng, show respect for the poor chicken that died to cure your cold."

"Lame, Chunnie. You used to be better at teasing. Much better."

"I'm being considerate, since the cold has clearly impaired your mental faculties."

"How do you figure that?" Changmin sputtered indignantly, but the slightly worried look in Jaejoong's eyes dissipated and that was what Yoochun had been aiming for. Jae had finally found his way back to Yunho and Changmin. He shouldn't have to worry. If Yoochun had to tie the maknae to the couch, he'd do it in a flash.

"The memory loss is significant," Yoochun proclaimed in a voice of doom. "You're  talking , Changmin!"

"He is, isn't he? He clearly lost all his sign language skills."

"I did not!" Changmin yelled, and promptly doubled over coughing or laughing, it wasn't easy to tell.

"Maybe you should remind him how it's done," Jaejoong suggested. "Tell us how you got here. In sign language."

It took an hour of Yoochun proving his acting mastery by telling the story of his car chase / shopping spree in detail… and in total silence… until Changmin finally fell into an exhausted sleep, the dark circles under his eyes pronounced and a thin line of sweat beading his upper lip.

Jaejoong tucked the blanket back around him and sighed. "He worries too much."

"He always has and you won't change him," Yoochun smiled. "Go check on Yunho. I'll keep an eye on the brat."

And for the next two hours Yoochun was content to lounge on the sofa with Changmin's head in his lap, glad that—for a time—he was done with masks and charades. That he could stop joking and pretending. That he could simply sit and dab honey on Changmin's chapped lips without another care in the world.


	3. Sunshine

### Sunshine

  
Junsu had wanted to be at Jaejoong's last solo concert, but a re-scheduled fan event in Santiago had thrown a spanner into their plans. Text messages and phone calls really didn't make up for actually being there, though, so a part of him had expected the cold shoulder treatment.

Jaejoong was the most accommodating guy ever, but he could be epically snippy when he was pissed.

So when his phone didn't ring, and no text messages arrived when most sane people were fast asleep, Junsu didn't worry too much. He just pulled up Twitter and Instagram to gauge Jae's mood.

Judging by the traffic on the fan sites, the concert tour had been very successful. Junsu expected to see at least an acknowledgement or an inane comment or two. The total silence on both channels threw him for about five minutes. Then he burst into whoops of joy.

Junsu had no idea how Jaejoong had managed it, but he could read the signs as well as Yoochun had and he understood the language just as clearly.

_I'm on the next flight home_ , he texted to Jaejoong. _Negotiating downtime._

_Flu. Blackmail if you have to._

Jae's response came within moments and Junsu stared at his phone, worry now ragging the edges of his elation. He had missed Yunho and Changmin as much as Yoochun, though perhaps not quite as much as Jaejoong. Still, he was looking forward to seeing the two face to face, rather than just on YouTube, and he certainly hadn't expected them to be sick. Or Jaejoong to be up and texting at what—for him—was 4am.

_How bad?_

_Grim._

That made it a 3 on the Jaejoong scale of seriousness. Surgery rated a four. Yunho getting poisoned had been… Junsu frowned, pushing the memories as far away as they would go.

He remembered grim. Grim was uncomfortable, boring and—sometimes, when the others were busy—lonely. But on the grand scale of things, grim was easier to deal with than any other number. Grim meant a grumpy Yunho and a whiny Changmin. Grim meant they'd been left alone to recover as best they could, meant that they were on lockdown and bored stupid, their usually busy schedules suspended. Grim meant they were climbing the walls, needed to be entertained, and had to be stopped from doing too much too soon.

Grim, Junsu could deal with.

A quick call to his PA and his manager cleared space in his schedule. More space than they were probably happy to provide, but Junsu simply declared a family emergency. He didn't even feel that he was lying.

A flurry of texts to Jaejoong discussed anything from provisions on the video games front to the presence of a piano in Yunho and Changmin's apartment. And while he waited to board his flight, he wrote several long, detailed emails. After that, Junsu went shopping.

Jaejoong wasn't the only one amongst them who knew his way around the internet. Junsu was similarly loath to be mobbed in shopping malls, and was stuck in airport lounges and photo shoots just as often. By the time his flight landed, his PA waited in an unremarkable car with tinted windows that was filled with shopping bags.

"I've got everything on your list. We only have to pick up the treats and get you to your stylist," his PA said, sliding into the front passenger seat while Junsu climbed into the back, pushed his sunglasses down and pulled his hoodie up. Just in case.

"They all know we're coming, right?"

"Yes. I'll drop you at the stylist and pick up the rest of your things while you get ready. Are you sure you don't want me to take you? You're badly jetlagged. And you'll be in full costume and makeup. You shouldn't be driving."

Junsu merely smiled. The woman could clearly guess where he was headed, but that didn't mean he needed—or even wanted—company on the way. He'd be nervous enough without anyone watching.

"It's not far. I'll be fine."

***

Heart hammering like crazy, but taking his cue from Jaejoong, Junsu stepped into Yunho and Changmin's living room three hours later. He was bone tired, but so hyped up that every single muscle in his body was quivering. If it hadn't been for Jaejoong wrapping his arms around him in a soothing hug as soon as he arrived, Junsu would have turned on his heel and run. Or been sick. The moment Jaejoong opened the door, it could have gone either way.

Jaejoong's hugs were magic, though, and Junsu was too good a performer to ruin the surprise or let his nerves get to him. He paused on the threshold, quietly smoldering as if he was trying to seduce his audience with his bright hair and brighter smile, the tilt of his head, the line of his shoulders and the sway of his hips before he'd sung a single note.

And his audience of three sat, to his immense gratification, with their mouths open in shock.

Junsu was glad to see Yunho and Changmin were up and mostly awake. He liked it even more that both were smiling widely once the surprise wore off, though he wasn't quite sure why Yoochun was staring. The man had seen the routine while Junsu worked on it. He really shouldn't be surprised. But maybe…

"So what's all this about Yoochun being in love with a witch?" Junsu sing-songed, instead of launching into the tune his costume suggested.

"He is… what?" That was Jaejoong, choking right behind him.

"I thought you lived on Twitter and Instagram? You didn't see it? He's been buying lingerie for cats. That proves it, right?" Junsu found his phone and held it out for the others to see. Picture after picture slid across the screen: Yoochun outside a pet store, Yoochun inside a pet store, arms laden with cat toys. Yoochun holding delicate lavender undies, dripping with lace. Yoochun buying Swarovski crystal adorned cat collars. And a sales girl gaping enviously as Yoochun admired a stiffly-boned corset of shiny black satin trimmed with red lace.

"It has been suggested," Junsu read from some news article on his phone, eyes gleeful, "that Park Yoochun's latest love interest may be a witch. Stylish, playful and with exquisite taste, she's thought to be a cat by day and a seductress by night. Unfortunately, Park Yoochun was not available to confirm the rumours, or to enlighten us about where the two of them met."

"Maybe… I need to make another run to the mall and buy a luxury broomstick," Yoochun declared solemnly into the sudden, stunned silence.

"Yeah. Take Death with you and tomorrow we'll learn that JYJ engages in Occult practices." Changmin's raspy voice sounded appropriately menacing.

All five looked at each other in consternation and then—just like that—they were howling with laughter. Laughter that ended in coughing fits for Yunho and Changmin, had Jaejoong scolding like a fish wife, and Yoochun jumping up to fetch honey and cough mixture for the two invalids.

The sudden activity left Junsu standing in the middle of the room, staring at the two men he'd not see in far too long. He saw how skinny they both were, noted the deep shadows circling their eyes and guilt hit him like a freight train.

He hated the separation as much as Yoochun. He hated only seeing Yunho and Changmin on YouTube. Hated that he couldn't just turn up at their concerts without giving rise to rumours. Hated the sadness that had taken up residence in Jaejoong's gaze and wouldn't shift whatever they achieved. He often wished that they could have found a way to do this while staying together as five, but he also knew that he didn't regret his choice. He'd fought for the opportunity to expand his horizons, and he worked his socks off to make the most of the chances he now had.

And he had no idea how to put any of that into words.

"You're here, Su-ah," Jaejoong's voice hummed softly in his ear. "That says it all. And while I don't think those two deserve a treat—have you seen how skinny they are? Yunho can't even remember how to make soup and Min has lost all his sign language skills!—we were hoping you could keep them quiet for a little while."

"That's what I do best," Junsu deadpanned, "keep people quiet. Maybe we should try gagging them with pineapple and mango sorbet."

"Mango sorbet? You brought mango sorbet?" Changmin could have been a cat right then with his wide grin and wider eyes. If he'd had whiskers, they'd be twitching exitedly. "Hyung, you remembered!"

"Of course I remembered. I also brought coffee and movies and video games, so don't expect me to sing for you all night!"

"We don't," Yunho stage-whispered. His eyes were shining. "But I only have a sound recording of Elizabeth, so seeing you like this… dressed up… actually play it…"

Junsu hadn't sung the part in a while, but with the four of them watching, he fell back into it easily enough. The longing and the heartache poured from him in waves. Love and desire joined in, but it wasn't until he heard the pain of rejection in his tone, and realised that the next escalation would hold defiance and anger and spite, that it came to him what he was doing—consciously or not. He toned down the emotion and closed his eyes as he finished the song, unable to face the other four with his hurt suddenly so raw.

"Can I just point out that we're not that sick?" Changmin rasped when the last notes had died away.

Junsu shrugged, still not looking at anyone. "I gathered that. But you left before the curtain, and you didn't come backstage, so I never got the chance to show off the costume in all its glory."

"I did, didn't I?" Changmin's voice asked softly right beside him, and then Junsu found himself pulled into a hug so tight, it made all previous hurt disappear. "I've maybe been an idiot."

"We've all had our moments." Yoochun dabbed a stray tear from the corner of Junsu's eye before it had a chance to ruin the makeup. "We were waiting for signs from you guys, just because we felt on some level that it had to be your choice. And now I'm wondering if you weren't doing something similar."

Junsu turned towards Jaejoong and Yunho, only to find them conversing with looks as they were used to do. The smile on Jae's face was worth every bit of second-guessing he'd done since he'd realised what was happening.

"That didn't take long, did it?" he said softly, nodding at the two.

"No time at all," Changmin assured him. "Come have some sorbet. And tell me what video games you've brought. I'm bored to tears with watching Yunho's sappy movies!"

For just a moment, Junsu buried his face in Changmin's neck, his hands in Yoochun's hair, and simply breathed. Two pairs of arms wrapped around him, firm and secure, and without having to be told, Junsu knew he was home.

***

"Look!" The raspy whisper was Changmin's. But the sight that greeted them when they turned had nothing to do with their youngest. Like Changmin, they stared at Junsu, who was lying beside the video cabinet with his cheek resting on the Lord of the Rings boxset and his arms and legs sprawled every which way. The Hobbit DVD case was in his hand, and it was clear he'd finally fallen prey to his jetlag while choosing a movie for them to watch.

"He still doesn't sleep well on planes, does he?" Yunho made the deduction, and Jae smiled even as he shook his head. "His fan meeting was rescheduled and he told me he caught the very next flight back. I don't think he's slept since yesterday morning."

"Let's get him to bed."

It was as if they'd forgotten that Yunho and Changmin's apartment wasn't meant to house five. They rose as one, intent to scoop up Junsu, when reality intruded. For just a moment.

"Give me five," Yunho said and disappeared out the door and down the corridor toward the bedrooms.

"What are you doing?" Jaejoong hissed as Changmin got up too and started to move the coffee table.

"Making space?" The youngest only just didn't roll his eyes. "Yunho's gone for the futons and bedding. They need to go somewhere."

Between the three of them they made quick work of pushing the furniture against the walls, clearing a large square in the centre of the room. Just in time for Yunho to lay out two large mattresses and cover them in sheets and blankets. Pillows came next, a veritable mountain of pillows, and then Yunho turned down the lights and started the film while they all settled in a heap onto their makeshift bed.

It felt like old times.

And just like back then, not one of them saw the end of the movie.


End file.
